The Perils of Being Easy
by slaygirl190
Summary: SLASH. John Cena is easy but getting to CM Punk...not so easy


_AN: This is a throwback to 2008. I'm going to play around with the timeline a lot but the basic events are still in place. As always, my one share buys me one of those stupid ropes they use for tag team matches or something just as useless._

**The Perils of Being Easy**

Punk shifted in his seat, trying to adapt to his new surroundings. He had just been drafted to Raw after the implosion of ECW. He didn't really know any of his new co-workers that well and he wasn't one to adopt someone else's opinions, so as far as he was concerned everyone under the Raw banner was offered a clean slate until he felt the urge to break that same slate over their head. There was one person that Punk already knew to avoid at all costs. Even right now he was two rows back from him and was forced to stare at the back of his head and his goofy military-style haircut. He had already formed an opinion on John Cena long ago and there was no blotting that night from his memory. Punk didn't know very much about Cena except that he was shockingly easy. Punk knew he was being a hypocrite when he said that because it was him that ended up on his back after WrestleMania 22 being pounded into the bed by Cena after the both exhilarating and humiliating experience that had been riding on the side of a car dressed as a gangster as part of Cena's entrance.

Punk didn't normally fall into bed with anyone who offered, promiscuity being a big straight edge no-no, but John Cena was sex on legs and when he found himself pinned against the wall in the shower and kissed breathless by Cena he had melted immediately. He wasn't dumb enough to think that Cena knew who he was at all; he was just a warm body, a novelty to be experienced once but never repeated. Afterwards John had pulled his nice guy move on him and asked him to stay the night. They stayed up talking half the night but the rest was spent tossing and turning fitfully next to Cena who slept peacefully through the night. By the time morning came Punk was horrified that he had basically allowed himself to be Cena's sex toy for the night. He had played along with Cena's false niceness and gave Cena a bum number when he had asked Punk if he could see him again. He had hopped on a plane back to Ohio and the safety of OVW. The stay was short however when he was almost immediately called up to the WWE and placed on the ECW roster. He spent 2 years there, a championship reign here and there, but most importantly he gained the briefcase that was resting next to his chair.

Punk forced his eyes to stop trying to bore a hole into the back of Cena's head and instead watched as Edge strutted around the ring with his newly won belt. Therefore he didn't notice what was going on around him until he felt someone slide into the seat next to him.

"So, it was really sweet of you to give me the ticket number for Wrigley Field. How did you know that I wanted to catch a game?"

Punk didn't even bother to turn to face Cena; he wasn't worth his full attention.

"I'm surprised you even remember that considering that you're a manwhore of epic proportions. One little rejection from someone that you barely knew couldn't have been that noteworthy."

"You're the only one that never came back begging for more, that I most definitely remember. I also remember that you were far and away the most flexible person that I've ever been with and that's saying something" John whispered into Punk's ear, the predatory tone that John was using was making Punk's skin crawl which only worsened when Cena wrapped a lock of his hair around his finger. Punk wasted no time in slapping his hand away.

"I'm so happy to know that I've earned a place in the John Cena greatest hits list."

Punk looked back up at the monitor and a hundred thoughts ran through his head simultaneously. One of the more insistent voices was to get away from Cena as soon as possible and the other was to take advantage of the situation that was currently in progress on the monitors. Punk stood up and grabbed his briefcase.

"I have a transaction to complete, let's not make this conversation a regular occurrence. A new crop of sweet young things were just called up from developmental. Why don't you devote yourself to working through them. I'm sure the majority of them, gay or not, would be willing to bend over for the great John Cena. A push for a push you could say."

"You would know how that works considering I did it for you."

Punk's head whipped around and his expression collapsed. "Are you saying all this time…"

"No, that's been all you. I just requested that they call you up to the big leagues. I could keep your delectable ass in my general vicinity that way. Has your bed been awfully cold and empty since you came to the WWE?"

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"When I say something's mine people tend to listen and believe me when I tell you that you belong to me."

"Fuck you Cena," and Punk walked towards the gorilla position seething. He waited until Batista had destroyed Edge before running to the ring with his briefcase and an official in tow. He knew that cashing in like this was below his personal standards of behavior but he needed to get away from Cena and he needed leverage. He had to put himself as high up the totem pole as he could before Cena decided to screw him over when he finally caught on that he had no chance in hell of getting anywhere near him. He pinned the prone Edge and celebrated with the crowd as Edge slinked off in embarrassment and pain. Punk came through the curtain and a tanned arm immediately wrapped around his waist.

"I have to say that was one hell of a debut, and I would know."

"I'm so glad that my debut meets with the approval of Chris Jericho, master of debuts."

"I was going to sit with you in the monitor bay but I saw you had already attracted Cena's attention, slut extraordinaire that he is."

"Thank god, he was lying."

"Lying about what?"

"Staking some sort of caveman claim on me."

"Oh, that's probably true. Shit like that doesn't filter up to me, like I would do anything Cena wanted me to. Anyway, I've already been there done that, nothing to write home about."

"Shut the fuck up, asshole."

"Fine, fine, you were a very sweet piece of ass, extremely bendy."

"I seem to be getting that feedback a lot today."

Chris led them to his private locker room and they settled in to watch the rest of the show. He and Chris had been lovers for a few short months. Chris had visited OVW as a kind of inspirational speaker and he and Chris had got on well. They exchanged numbers merely for professional advice and the like but their conversations had veered off into different territory entirely and the next time they were in a room together alone they had fucked against the wall like two animals in heat. They continued on that way until Punk got a late night call from Chris saying that he had just gotten home from a blind date and he had met the woman he was going to marry. The sex stopped but they found that they were still very close friends. Even Chris' wife knew about them and found it hilarious.

After the show they gathered their things and stepped out into the hallway. Chris didn't have a house show for a couple of days and Punk had no commitments beyond next week's Raw at the moment so they were both heading home. Punk hugged Chris goodbye but was surprised when Chris didn't pull back. Punk was absolutely shocked when Chris leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Punk looked at Chris like he had gone mad until he noticed Chris' eyes flicking towards something behind them. Punk turned around to see what Chris was looking at, a fuming John Cena who was turning progressively redder with each passing second that he and Chris were in each other's arms. Chris smacked him on the ass and walked away. Chris was abandoning him with an irate Cena? He could really be an ass sometimes.

"What the fuck was that?"

"A kiss. Considering your reputation you should know what they are unless you're so riddled with VD that no one will kiss you on the mouth, kind of like a hooker."

"I don't have to pay for it."

"Don't you? All these boys don't want to sleep with you because they want to be with you, they just want their push and a chance under the bright lights. They're willing to take it up the ass because you're the easiest rung to climb to get to the top."

"You will break things off with Jericho."

"Why?"

"Because I'm telling you to. He will not lay another hand on you."

"Too late. I gave it up to Chris a while ago, and again and again and again; I lose count of how many times he had me on my hands and knees screaming out his name. He definitely wins the prize as the best fuck I've ever had."

"You forget that you've been with me."

"What can I say you weren't very memorable," Punk said, turning on his heel and walking away with the Championship belt flung over his shoulder.

"You know that's a fucking lie!" John screamed at his retreating back but Punk just kept walking.

* * *

Punk had been home for a day when he got the phone call from Chris' wife asking if he enjoyed kissing her husband, laughing her ass off the entire time. An unintended consequence of his new Champion status was that he had been quickly added to the house show circuit. He would have Chris with him but he had already proven he was useless as a buffer between him and Cena. Punk was packing to catch his flight in a few hours when his cell went off. He checked the caller ID but it was coming up as an unknown number which had been common in the past few days with WWE road agents calling to work through the details of his new schedule.

"Hello."

"Hello sweetheart, what are you wearing?"

"Who the fuck is this?"

"I think you know who."

"Cena! How the fuck did you get this number?"

"I have my ways."

"Yeah, completely slutty ones. Who did you have to fuck to get my phone number. I can tell you now that it wasn't worth the trouble."

"I heard you're going to be at the house show. I have a single all to myself and I was calling to offer…"

"What? The super special chance for me to be your next conquest? I think when your fuck list is reaching the triple digits there isn't anything very special about it. I have a Championship now if you didn't catch that on Raw because you were too busy banging a light tech in a broom closet somewhere. There's nothing you could offer me that I have any interest in. Fuck off!" and Punk hung the phone up. He immediately added Cena to his contacts so that he wouldn't pick up the phone again if Cena was stupid enough to try calling again.

Punk finished packing and caught his flight to Raleigh. He took a cab to the arena and joined the rest of the guys in the locker room which was blessedly Cena free. The dick probably had a private dressing room that doubled as a temporary sex club. He was undressing and had stripped down to his boxers when he felt a warm hand palm his lower back and a kiss pressed to his neck.

"Good afternoon, Phil…looking luscious as usual," Punk turned around and shoved Cena back.

"Are you out of your fucking mind! A. Don't you dare call me that and B. Don't put your fucking slutty ass hands on me again!"

"I love that you're playing hard to get."

"This is not some game I'm playing with you, step the fuck off before I kick you in the balls. Let's see how useful you are when you can't get it up; not very I would imagine."

"You'll break eventually."

"Keep dreaming."

"I do," Cena said, stepping closer to Punk so that they wouldn't be overheard. "I do dream about you; how you moaned when I slid inside you. You were so warm and tight I thought by eyes were going to cross."

"Enough. Just fuck off and die."

"I'll see you later…Phil."

Punk managed to avoid Cena for the rest of the show though he seemed to have garnered more unwanted attention when he realized that Randy Orton kept glaring at him like he wanted to tear Punk limb from limb. He wasn't overly worried at how quickly he had gotten on Orton's bad side because it was widely known that Orton did not possess a good side.

"Ooh, looks like you pissed off Orton already," Chris said, dropping into the seat next to Punk's.

"What did I do?"

"His pet is a little too interested in you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Cena came to the WWE from OVW blindly in love with Orton. The moment he came to WWE he dropped Cena for a much more powerful lover, Hunter. Orton went straight to the top and Cena had to work his way through the mid-card. Just because Orton had someone else didn't mean he wanted John to. John couldn't get anyone to date him to save his life because of Orton so he started whoring around, probably to get Orton's attention but it seemed like Orton didn't care as long as it was nothing serious. Cena's trying harder to get to you than he ever has had to do with anyone before. It looks like Orton isn't too happy about it; you should probably watch your back.

"Great. I've got Edge pissed off that I took his title, Cena wants to fuck me and Orton wants to kill me. Why couldn't I have been drafted to Smackdown?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Fucking Cena."

"Wanna grab dinner after we get back to the hotel?"

"Sure, after I check in I'll give you my room number. Come get me after you've changed and finish the half hour it takes to do your hair."

Punk checked in and showered. He was digging through his suitcase to find clothes when there was a knock at the door. Chris must have skipped the hair care routine after Punk had teased him about it. He opened the door a crack and turned back to his suitcase when he was tackled onto the bed. He found himself pinned down on his back with his hands secured above his head and Cena straddling him. Cena leaned down and tried to kiss him but Punk turned his head from side to side to avoid Cena's lips.

"Stop struggling. You know you want it."

"Let me the fuck up."

"Why would I do that when I have you right where I want you."

Punk continued to struggle but he couldn't get loose. He stopped writhing when he felt John's erection press into his stomach. The son of a bitch was getting off on this. Punk willed himself to calm down, going pliant in Cena's grip and let Cena kiss him. Cena's kiss was demanding and rough and Punk opened his mouth wider and began kissing Cena back. After a few minutes Punk felt the hands pinning him down release and they slid down his chest. Punk wrapped one arm around John's neck and reached out blindly with his other hand to find anything that wasn't nailed down. His hand found something but John sat up abruptly when someone started knocking on the door.

"Punk, come on, I'm starving!"

"Fucking Jericho. What did I say…" but John was cut off when Punk bashed Cena in the head with his weapon. John lolled to the side and fell off the bed.

"What the fuck?"

Punk jumped up and opened the door to admit Jericho who walked in on the strange scene of Punk in his boxers with Cena lying on the ground holding his head.

"What the hell is this?"

"I thought it was you at the door. I'm really going to have to start using the peephole from now on."

"Were you trying to save his soul or something?"

"What do you mean?"

Punk looked down and realized that his weapon was the bible that had been in the nightstand.

"You're so going to hell."

"I'm gay. I was on my way there anyway; at least there won't be any pit stops in purgatory now. Can you help me here," Punk said, pointing to Cena who was holding his head and glaring at Jericho.

"What are you looking at me like that for? I'm not the one that just bashed you over the head with the new testament. Get the hell out Cena. Forcing your way into someone's room? That's a new low even for you."

"This isn't the end Phil," and John stood up and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Damn, Punk. What kind of tricks did you pick up after the last time we were together? Cena is straight up obsessed with your ass. What the hell did you do with him after WrestleMania?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

* * *

The rest of the house shows went as smoothly as they could go with Chris being absolutely no help whatsoever most of the time, Orton shooting him death glares and Cena eyefucking him from across the room. When Monday rolled back around Punk tried to put it all from his mind and prepared for his first Raw as Champion. He was scheduled for a Championship scramble in the main event against JBL, Rey Mysterio, Kane and Batista. He was hanging out in catering talking to Kofi Kingston who had also been drafted to Raw from ECW. Kofi's eyes widened and Punk felt the attack from behind. He rolled over onto his back to see Randy Orton and his boot heading toward his head and that was when everything went black.

Punk awoke in the trainer's room laid out on the table. He tried to sit up but the pain in his head was so intense that he felt nauseous and laid back on the table.

"Lay still. You have a concussion. You've been in and out of consciousness for the past 20 minutes. We were going to send you to the hospital but your pupils were responsive so we were just waiting for you to fully come to."

"My match…"

"The match is over. We had to declare you medically unfit to compete. Adamle declared the title forfeit. You were replaced."

"With who?"

"Chris Jericho. He's the new Champion. He's waiting outside. He wanted to come in but we asked him to wait until you were fully conscious to see if you wanted us to let him in."

"It's fine, let him in."

A sheepish Chris walked into the room holding the belt.

"I'm not going to jump you, as if I could in the state I'm in, at least it was you who won."

"I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be. Did you punt me in the head? No, that was Orton and his disciples."

"I have to do some press stuff before I can leave. Do you want to wait around for me?"

"Is Kofi still here?"

"Yeah, I just saw him."

"I'll get a ride from him to the hotel."

"You can take a cold shower, but you have to be woken up every hour if you fall asleep. You are not OK to fly for at least 2 days," the trainers informed him as Punk sat up and waited for the nausea to pass. He headed back to the locker room, threw some street clothes over his gear and rode with Kofi back to the hotel.

After much pleading he persuaded Kofi to leave him to his own devices. He had horrible insomnia so he wouldn't be falling asleep anyway so he didn't need a babysitter. He had just stepped out of the shower and pulled on a pair of boxers when the knocking started. He ignored it for a minute but the person on the other side of the door was obviously not going away. There wasn't a peephole in the door so he opened the door a crack and looked out into the hallway. John fucking Cena. Could this night get any better?

"Fuck off," Punk growled and tried to shut the door but Cena put his foot in the door jamb to stop it from closing. "I am so not in the mood for you right now Cena."

"I came to say I'm sorry."

"For what? Did you ask your psycho of an ex to kick me into unconsciousness?"

"Of course not, but he did it because of me. I can't control him. I never could. I shouldn't have done what I did the other night. I brought a peace offering," and Cena pulled out a bucket with a Pepsi on ice. "I promise I won't try anything. Can I come in?"

John smiled at him, dimples in full force and Punk felt himself melt a little. This wasn't the expression that Cena had been wearing the past week. He wasn't smirking or leering at him as he had been. This was the John Cena smile that had gotten him in trouble so many years ago. Punk was concussed and probably not thinking clearly but against his better judgment he opened the door and allowed Cena into his room. Cena put the Pepsi on the nightstand, went into the bathroom and came back with a towel that he filled with ice.

"Put this on your head."

Punk took the towel and walked over to the bed, dragging a chair near the bed, making it obvious that even though he was going to lay down Cena was not welcome to join him. Cena sat in the chair and Punk laid down on his side to face Cena.

"Seriously. What the hell is wrong with Orton?"

"Do you know…"

"Chris filled me in."

"Randy is a sociopath. He doesn't want me but he doesn't want anyone else to have me either. I tried to move on after he dumped me but he would threaten anyone that got too close and no one wanted me enough to try to challenge him."

"So you decided to whore yourself out?"

"The first few times I did it to make him jealous. He just laughed and patted me on the back and said that he had taught me well. I don't handle being alone very well. I get lonely easily and if all anyone wanted from me was sex I couldn't say no. At least I'd have someone for the night, most times at least. I know I've turned into Randy. I've become exactly what he made me."

"Have you ever thought of not behaving like some sort of sex fiend? There have to be a few guys around who aren't scared of Orton."

"You mean the honorable, stand-up kind of guys? After everything I've done none of them would touch me with a 10 foot pole. I couldn't get those guys to be my friend much less date me."

Punk couldn't help himself and yawned loudly.

"You're tired. Go to sleep. I'll wake you up in an hour."

"You're not going to molest me in my sleep or anything are you?"

"My hands and mouth will stay in appropriate places I promise."

"I'm giving you a chance to act like a gentleman here, don't fuck it up."

"I won't, I promise, go to sleep."

Punk nodded and dozed off.

When he woke up the next morning he had vague, hazy memories of being woken up by Cena throughout the night. He looked to his side and found Cena still in the chair but he was hunched over with his head resting on his folded hands on the bed, completely passed out. Punk reached out and shook him awake.

"Huh, what?"

"Aren't you supposed to be the one waking me up?"

"Fuck, I fell asleep. I suck as a nurse."

"Well, I'm still alive so you couldn't have been that bad. I'm surprised Chris didn't drag you out of here by now."

"He called your cell while you were asleep. I told him I was taking care of you for the night."

"And he let you?"

"Strangely, yes. Are you sure he's your friend if he's just going to leave you in my lecherous hands for the night without complaint?"

"Chris is reliable when he needs to be but he has a sick sense of humor. He probably thought it would be hilarious to leave me in your clutches for the night."

"Are you awake for good this morning?"

"Yeah."

"I'm exhausted. I'm going to get some sleep."

"Thanks for taking care of me last night…"

"I owed you that at least, but you're welcome," Cena said as he walked to the door and opened it, stepping into the hallway. He stuck his head back in the door and smiled that blindingly smile of his. "You can call me John if you want to" and the door closed behind him.

Punk reached over and grabbed his phone dialing Chris.

"You think you're hysterical don't you?"

"Have a nice night?"

"I wasn't molested in my sleep if that's what you're asking…at least I don't think I was."

"You know, I remember when Cena first came to the WWE. He was a sweet kid, if a bit naive."

"Is that in comparison to your own behavior at the time because that's not saying much."

"I had an unrequited crush on Shawn Michaels, so sue me."

"Love makes you do the wacky."

"Huh?"

"It's a quote from Buffy."

"You are so strange Punk, really. So Cena was on his best behavior."

"Surprisingly yes. He behaved like a normal human being for once."

"Any wackiness I should know about?"

"He stayed in his chair exactly as I left him when I passed out."

"Maybe you should cut the guy some slack. It can't be easy when your life is basically the plaything of a psychotic jackass like Randy Orton."

"Maybe…"

"Are you going to be okay by next Monday?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"They're letting you invoke your rematch clause. I convinced them to add a cage match stipulation. Yeah, you're going to be stuck wrestling me which sucks for you because you're going to lose but at least you'll be out of reach of potential head kicking jerk-offs."

"A steel cage match, aren't you just the best friend a guy could ask for?"

"I sense some sarcasm there."

"It's fine, really. I'm stuck here for 2 more days before I can fly again so I'm out of the house show rotation for the week. I guess I'll see you on Monday in the cage. Bye Chris."

Punk took a shower and re-iced his head which was still throbbing a little. He wasn't used to being sedentary and had no idea what he was going to do with himself for the next 2 days. He picked up the remote when he heard a knock at his door. He opened it up and John strolled in.

"Shouldn't you be getting on a plane right now with the rest of the guys?"

"I told them I had a family emergency. I'm here to entertain you for the next 2 days until you can fly home, if that's okay…"

"Uh..I guess it's fine, but I get bored very easily, you're going to have to be very entertaining."

"Oh I can be," John said with an exaggerated leer.

"And here you go again…"

"I'm kidding, really. You can't blame a guy for trying. So I heard through the grapevine…"

"What? About me and Chris' cage match?"

"No…cage match…are you sure Chris is your friend?"

"Yeah, it makes perfect sense if you're slightly maniacal as Chris is."

"Whatever you say, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"I'm not one to gossip but I have nothing better to occupy my time so you may as well get this gossip session started.

"Guess who's coming back next week?"

"I'm not so bored that I'm going to sit here and play guess who. Out with it."

"Shawn Michaels."

"No fucking way. Chris is going to flip out." Punk eyed his cell phone that John held out to him. "What's that for?"

"Aren't you going to tell Chris?"

"No. Let's see how hilarious he finds it when the shoe is on the other foot."

They spent the day watching TV, ordering room service, and talking about random things like hobbies and favorite movies. At some point Punk allowed John to leave the chair and share the bed with clear instructions that he was to stay on his side or face castration. On the morning of day 2 Punk awoke to find himself flush against John's body with his arm draped around Punk's waist. Punk lay completely still. This was in clear violation of the rules but he couldn't deny that it felt nice. He continued to lie quietly until he heard John start to stir. Punk felt John snatch his hand back from around his waist and move quickly back to his side of the bed. It was kind of cute that John had gone from sexual predator to nervous schoolboy in the course of a few days. That was probably the person John truly was if it hadn't been for Randy Orton.

Punk's headache had subsided and they spent the day walking around town until they both had to catch their flights. John was returning to the house show circuit and Punk was returning home to Chicago until the next Raw. They made it through security, bound for different concourses to get to their gates.

"Thanks for keeping me company. I would have ended up tearing my hair out in boredom if it hadn't been for you."

"It was my pleasure. See you on Monday?"

"I'll be there."

"Bye Punk," and John closed the distance and gave Punk a tight hug before heading down the hallway, turning around to smile shyly at him for a moment and continued heading down the hall. John Cena was going to drive him to distraction while he was home and Punk didn't know if that was a bad thing or not.

* * *

The unexpected call came from Chris on Saturday.

"You'll never guess what happened!"

"I don't know Chris, tell me!" Punk replied, exaggerating Chris' manic excitement.

"If you're going to get all sarcastic on me maybe I won't tell you about the death match that took place backstage this afternoon."

"Chris…"

"Fine. I'll tell you. Cena totally kicked Orton's ass! We all saw Orton walk into Cena's locker room and then we could hear them yelling and then there was banging and that's when the door flew off the hinges, Cena on top of Orton wailing on the guy."

"John did not do that!"

"Yeah he did, I saw…Wait, John…really?"

"He stayed behind when you all moved on to the house show."

"Did anything happen?"

"Not unless you count accidental spooning, no."

"This fight is all starting to make so much more sense now…gotta go, my ride is waiting for me, see you Monday."

Punk stared at his phone thoughtfully. He had John's number saved in his contacts. He wanted to call him and ask him about the fight, but furtive cuddling and one hug did not entitle him to know John's private business. Maybe John would tell him on Monday.

* * *

Punk walked into the arena and made his way to the locker room.

"Punk, hey!"

Punk turned around to see John standing in the doorway of his private locker room.

"You can share with me if you want…"

"Sure, why not."

They took seats on opposite ends of the couch and Punk waited for John to tell him about the fight but John remained silent on the subject. That's when Punk's phone started ringing. Punk read the caller ID and put it on speaker so that John could hear.

"Hey Chris. What's up?"

"Where the fuck are you?"

"In the locker room."

"You are not. You know how I know that because I'm in the goddamn locker room right now and you're not."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Shawn is here."

"Yeah. I heard about that on Tuesday."

"Punk!"

"What? You would have done the same thing to me."

"Point taken. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, you're both married men now so you don't have to worry about throwing yourself at him like an overeager prom date…I hope."

"I'd punch him in the face before I'd ever stoop so low to…"

"You keep telling yourself that."

At this point John couldn't keep in his laughter anymore and stared cracking up.

"Who the hell is that! You have me on motherfucking speaker phone! I'm coming to kick your ass right now, screw the cage, where are you?"

"In a locker room."

"Asshole, we just went through this. I am in the locker room and you are not."

"I said a locker room, not the locker room."

"He's with me," John said, interjecting into the rapidly deteriorating conversation.

"Who's me?"

"It's John."

"Oh, really, isn't that just interesting. I'm on my way."

"Oh thanks John, now he's bringing the crazy right to our doorstep instead of being safely on the other end of the phone."

The door banged open with Jericho striding in and sitting between them on the couch.

"So, John, do you mind enlightening us on why you decided to lay Orton out?"

"I…he…Randy was running his mouth off as usual. I realized I didn't give a fuck what he thought or said, I just wanted him to shut the hell up. So I shut his mouth for him."

"That's all you're going to give me? I'm in an emotional crisis here; I need gossip like I need a fake beard and a wig so it's safe to walk the hallways. You know what, in the time honored actions of Stone Cold Steve Austin I am taking my ball and I'm going home."

"The hell you are. I only get one rematch and if you duck out who knows what Adamle might do. I'm supposed to have 30 days in which I must defend my title. I get knocked out and 20 minutes later I'm no longer the Champion. He has no concept of the rules that govern our sport. I'm going to lock that door and tie you to that bench if you even think of trying to duck out."

As Chris had predicted Punk lost the match. Punk wasn't entirely surprised because Chris was the best in the world. Punk knew he had climbed too far too fast and this was what he deserved when he had behaved like some sort of pathetic loser and cashed in on a practically unconscious Edge. He was better than that and should have just picked a date and wrestled a fair match.

He showered, arrived at the hotel and made his way to his room to find John standing outside, smiling as he saw Punk leave the elevator. John was holding a pizza and a grocery bag.

"Are you capable of being cheered up?"

"Yeah. I recognize that the whole thing was just a fuck up from start to finish. It was never going to work out well for me after behaving the way I did."

"Excellent. I'm here to ply you with Pepsi and junk food."

"I told Chris…"

"Blow him off, like you want to sit around and watch him polish his belt."

"True. You are welcome to come in only because you brought me Pepsi. You did bring Pepsi, right?"

"What kind of useless friend would I be if I didn't. Chris probably brings you Coke just to screw with you."

"He's famous for switching our drinks in restaurants so I can make a fool out of myself when I start retching from the poison that is Coca-Cola."

John didn't wait for an invitation this time and took a seat on the bed. They stayed up watching gory scary movies until they passed out. Punk awoke to find John plastered against his back again, but this time John's erection was pressed against his ass and John seemed to be having a hell of a time dry humping him in his sleep. He felt John bury his face in his hair.

"Phil, fuck, it's so good, fuck me, please…"

Punk's eyes widened at the end of that statement. He had figured John for a top but it seemed like his subconscious wanted something entirely different from him. John was playing the part of friend right now but it seemed like John still wanted him. Punk couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. Punk felt his body rebel against his mind and pressed his hips back into John's groin, increasing the pressure. He felt John's body seize and Punk knew John had just come from rutting against Punk in his sleep. He had just let John use him once again to satisfy his sexual hunger. Punk tried to summon up feelings of shame or anger but the emotions just wouldn't come. Punk just had to accept the fact that he was falling for John Cena and neither his brain nor his body seemed to have any trouble with that fact. He heard John stir behind him with a whispered "oh fuck." Obviously John had just realized that he had come in his pants. He listened as John jumped out of bed and hurried out the door.

They ran into each other in the restaurant for breakfast and Punk couldn't ignore that fact that John was blushing slightly and couldn't look him in the eye. It was all sort of sweet. They left the hotel and took the bus with the rest of the Raw contingent to catch a plane to the next house show.

* * *

It was the third house show that week and at some point John decided to forgo even booking his own room and moved into Punk's without comment from either of them. Punk enjoyed testing John by ceasing to dress in the bathroom and walking around the room with progressively less clothes on. He could feel John's eyes on him and he had to admit that it kind of excited him to have that kind of effect on John.

Punk had just finished his match when he was hauled into a hallway and found himself slammed against the wall with Orton's hands wrapped around his throat.

"Listen to me you little bitch. I'm not dumb and blind. I don't know what kind of perversities you're entertaining John with but it must be pretty mind-blowing if, in the course of a week, he's back to being that naive boy that walked into OVW that first day. He couldn't take his eyes off me and when I caught him looking you should have seen him blush so prettily. I wouldn't be surprised if he was a virgin the first time I took him. It didn't take long to train him up though. He was so in love with me that he would do any perverted thing I demanded of him. He cried like a little bitch when I broke up with him. You want a taste of the whore I made him into, you're welcome to it. Everyone should have a ride on my favorite bicycle but it stops there. I want him out of your hotel room before the nights over. I can tell he's got it bad for you but you're going to end it, and you're going to end it tonight," Orton gave his throat another tight squeeze and then released him and walked away. His throat hurt so much that he could barely breathe. He couldn't let John see him like this, he had to find Chris.

He rushed to Chris' locker room and locked the door behind him.

"How did you manage to get somewhere without being attached at the hip to Cena?"

Chris looked up and immediately noticed the bruises that were starting to blossom around his throat.

"What the fuck happened to you?"

"Orton happened. He wants me to stay away from John and figured the best way to get that message across was to practically choke me out."

"Cena isn't worth this. Throw him out on his ass and be done with it."

"But…"

"But you don't want to. How the hell you got yourself into this situation I'll never know. You managed to reform Cena and fall for him at the same time. Is he worth being choked to the edge of unconscious? Is he worth Orton trying to both physically assault you and ruin your career at the same time?"

"I think so."

"You talk a good game but you really are just a marshmallow aren't you?"

Punk left Chris' locker room to find John's. He walked in as John was digging through his things.

"Hey…what the hell happened to you! Who did this!"

"It was Orton. He wasn't too happy about the time we've been spending together."

John rushed across the room and wrapped his arms around Punk tightly. He was pressing his lips gently on the bruises that were decorating his neck, a litany of 'I'm sorry' falling from his lips. Punk cradled John's head and raised his bowed head until they were staring each other in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry Punk. I'll move my things out your room, I won't speak to you anymore, I'll leave you alone. This is all my fault. I'm not worth this."

"You are worth it."

"I'm not. I'm nothing but a fucking whore."

"Don't say that. You're not that to me anymore. You are worth a couple of bruises, you're worth it to me," and Punk closed the distance between their lips and kissed John gently. Punk licked the seam of John's lips and his mouth opened, their tongues tangling together briefly before John pulled away and stepped back putting a few feet of space between them.

"Don't do that unless you mean it. It would break me if you took what you wanted like all the rest and threw me away when you were done. Not you Phil, not you…"

"I want all of it. I want you to love me; I want to make love to you until all you can remember is my hands touching you, my lips kissing you. If you can't give me all that tell me now so I can walk away and not end up with my heart broken."

John rushed back into Punk's arms and tucked his head into the crook of Punk's neck.

"Love me, love me, please love me."

"I do."

John sunk his fingers into Punk's hair and feverishly kissed Punk. Punk returned the kiss until he felt John's hands slipping into his trunks.

"Stop."

John looked at Punk, his face falling more with every second.

"Don't you want me? I'll do anything you tell me, I'll…"

"John, stop. I don't want our first time to be in a dingy locker room in some random arena. You deserve more than that."

"I don't. If you knew…"

"That's in the past. It's only you and me from now on. I want you to give yourself to me because you want to not because you think I expect something from you. Let's go back to the hotel."

They left the arena and took a cab to the hotel. During the cab ride Punk had reached out and took John's hand in his, twining their fingers together. John didn't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from their clasped hands. When he finally looked up at Punk his eyes were a little glassy.

"Is something wrong?"

"It's just…well…no one has really held my hand before."

"Get used to it. I've been known to go a little overboard where public displays of affection are concerned."

"No complaints here," and John turned his head to place a practically chaste kiss on Punk's lips.

They finally made it to the hotel and into their room. They fell onto the bed with John on his back and Punk straddling his waist. John raised his arms above his head, the exact opposite position that they had been in when John had forced his kisses on Punk. Punk leaned forward and slid his hands up John's arms, twining their fingers together and holding John there gently. Punk lowered his head and kissed John deeply. Punk would try to separate their mouths to explore other parts of John's body but John kept chasing his lips and locking their lips together again and again. Punk let go of John's loosely secured hands and John sunk his fingers into Punk's hair, prolonging their kisses even more. Punk was happy to give John what he so desperately wanted.

Punk began to ease John's shirt up, forcing the kiss to be broken, but as soon as John's shirt slipped over his head John's lips were back on Punk's. Punk considered why someone of John's experience would be content with mere kisses but it occurred to him that with an ex like Randy and meaningless one night stands no one had probably ever taken the time or cared enough to kiss John in this way. Punk felt a surge of emotion that he was giving John something no one ever had before. Punk let his hands wander over the smooth muscle of John's chest and abs, savoring every hitch of breath from John as his hands claimed John's body as his. John sat up suddenly, wrapping his arms around Punk's middle and just staring up into Punk's eyes. Punk extended his hands over his head and John took his unspoken direction and pulled Punk's shirt over his head. John proceeded to kiss every inch of Punk's skin that he could reach.

Punk suddenly found himself on his back, John sitting back to remove Punk's shoes and socks and then pulled Punk's shorts and boxers down his legs and let them drop to the floor, John's shorts following after. John kissed his way down Punk's stomach, stopping when he was at eye level with Punk's straining erection. John's mouth slid slowly down his cock, sucking him with gentle suction. He let John set the pace, Punk happy to let John pleasure him slowly and not rush towards orgasm. Punk slid his hands over John's shorn hair, tender enough so that John knew Punk appreciated his efforts but did not exert pressure to rush what was turning into a singular experience for both men.

John's mouth eased off his erection, sitting up in Punk's lap, pulling Punk up until they were face to face. John picked up Punk's hand, kissing his palm and then sucking two of Punk's fingers into his mouth. When they were slick with John's saliva John rose to his knees and guided Punk's hand to his entrance. Punk eased his fingers into John's tight hole, scissoring them gently to stretch John's entrance. John fused their mouths together again while he slowly rode Punk's fingers. John removed Punk's fingers from his loosened hole, placing Punk's arms around his hips as he slid down smoothly, John's eyes fluttering closed as Punk breeched his entrance, both men moaning when Punk was buried deep inside his body.

John rode Punk leisurely, Punk watching the pleasure overtake John's face. John's eyes opened slowly and stared into Punk admiring gaze. John's hips rolled into his and Punk felt the exquisite sensation of John tightening his muscles. Punk's eyes fell closed and John kissed his closed eyelids. John guided Punk's hand to firmly grip his cock, Punk stroking John at the same speed of his hips. John began to move faster, Punk meeting him stroke for stroke. Punk could feel the heat pooling in his belly, his ab muscles tensing as he neared completion. Punk pumped John's erection more firmly, needing John to come first, to see John's face blissed out with pleasure. John moaned loudly and Punk knew he had found the bundle of nerves deep inside John. He gripped John's hip firmly, guiding his hips to stay at the angle, John moaning 'Phil' with bated breath over and over. He felt John's body seize, his channel rippling around him, the sensation too much to hold back his orgasm as John's cum coated his hand. John wrapped his arms around Punk's neck, tucking his moist face into Punk's shoulder.

"Phil, I love you, I love you…"

"I love you too."

Punk lowered John onto his back, slipping out of him as he lay next to John; John immediately cuddling into his side, one arm and leg draped over him.

"That was…"

"…nothing like I've ever felt before."

Punk turned his head to meet John's reddened lips, John sweetly returning the kiss.

"What now?" John asked quietly.

"Oh you know, normal relationship stuff like winning titles, beating each other with steel chairs, making up in your locker room by making out like teenagers…"

"It won't be easy."

"Nothing worth having ever is."

_AN: This is the last of the one shots. This has been kicking around in my head for a while and I finally had a break to put this out there. The next installment of the Summer of Punk series should be out in the next few days. This was drastically different from my usual stuff and I hope you enjoyed it!_


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